


Late Night Visitor

by Emyria



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: 2fort, Incest, M/M, NOT REALLY but i better tag it, spycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emyria/pseuds/Emyria
Summary: The nights at 2Fort were two things: unbearably hot and way too short.This particular one, however, felt way too long. Spy cannot wait until it's over.





	Late Night Visitor

The nights at 2Fort were two things: unbearably hot and way too short. The unforgiving desert sun crept up too early for the air to ever cool down, leaving the place in a steady, unpleasant heat. Spy missed the feeling of freedom and adventure, spending a cold night underneath the sky, not sure where he would rest tonight or where to go in the morning. He missed that breath of fresh air in his life.The life before he fell for the wrong woman. The life before he was chained down, working for RED.

For now he's stuck in his smoking room that's too small for his taste, blowing cigarette smoke into the air while sipping on whiskey. Thanks to Engineer’s technological innovations the room was artificially cooled down enough for him to wear his usual suit without dying of a heat stroke. It was almost as if nothing was different than usual - but tonight the world just felt wrong to him.

2Fort just wasn't his place to be. The sooner they were done here the better. 

He mumbled under his breath and turned a page in the catalogue dedicated to overpriced watches he pretended to have been reading. 

A knock on the door caught his attention. 

He wasn't expecting anyone (as usual) and no one generally dared to disturb him unannounced. What fool thought it was a good idea to - 

“Hey Spy, I know it's really late n’ stuff but ya gonna have to open that door and let me in, there's a thing I gotta talk to you about.”

Of course it was Scout. Who else would have the nerve to. 

Another impatient knock. “Hey man, are you in there?”

Spy sighed and placed his glass of whiskey and catalogue on his desk. As he walked over to the door another knock echoed through the room. He opened the door to a startled looking Scout, hand raised in preparation of hammering down the door again. 

“Oh hey man, knew ya would be in there after all! So like, lemme just get in I'll - “

“What do you want, Scout?” Spy cut him off, his sharp tone making annoyance clear to his late night visitor. 

“I was gonna get there in just a minute, don't be so impatient. Never really took you for the impatient type, ya know. Because of all that spy stuff, thought it really would need you ta’ be patient an’ all.”

Spy scoffed. “Scout, if you came here just to waste my time I assure you the experience won't be pleasant. Medic will find your body cut up in a 27 human puzzle for him to put back together tomorrow morning. So God help me and get to the point.”

Scout raised his eyebrows and fumbled with his hands for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“Can I… come in?” he asked carefully in a voice that was way too quiet for Scout. 

Spy sighed - one of many sighs to leave his lungs this night - and stepped aside. “Make it quick.”

“Thanks, man!” Scout quickly entered the room, closed the door shut and placed himself in the middle of the room. Spy walked back to his desk with the whiskey placed on top, taking it in his hands before turning back to his visitor. 

Scout continued to nervously fumble with his hands, placing his weight from one foot to the other. He couldn’t find the words he wanted to say.

Spy continued to look at him with raised eyebrows. Usually the words would just fall from his mouth like an unfiltered waterfall full of crap. It was unsettling to see him struggle to even find a start.

Scout’s shoulders slouched down. “Look man, what I’m about to say will be pretty uncomfortable for both of us - don’t think you’re the only one suffering here! I don’t wanna say or hear about this either. So, like, don’t blame this on me, alright.”

“Scout, get to the point.”

“Alright, alright!” Scout raised both of his arms up before his gaze fell to the floor once again.

“So, like, I noticed something between us. Just like, it might always have been there but only recently I started to really notice it. I know I might not be the brightest one out there but it’s gotten so clear to me that I don’t think I’m wrong. I just think like, there’s something going on between us”

Spy felt the temperature in the room drop a bit. This went from being a hassle to something way worse. Did Scout finally figure out that Spy is his - 

“So you like, totally look at me differently than everyone else! Ya can’t hide it anymore!” Scout was raising his voice, pointing a finger at Spy and taking a few steps forwards.

God, he must have finally figured it out.

Spy snapped out of his frozen state and placed the glass of whisky on the desk. He crossed his arms in a defensive stance to shield him from Scout’s accusations. He has not planned to let Scout ever going to find out about this, let alone let him take advantage of it.

“Scout, I would prefer it if you could not throw a tantrum in my room. Just tell me what you need to.” 

“Throwing a tantrum? Oh yeah, I’ll show you what throwing a tantrum is like, alright. I know you think I’m all stupid and you’re oh-so clever but I still can’t believe you think I am this oblivious. Even now you’re pretending to be all suavé or however you pronounce that but I’ll tell you this. I noticed. I noticed you’ve been starin’ at me for a long time now, like throwing me looks here and then. More than the others, ya know? Looks that you only give me when you think I’m not noticin’. Making this whole shit kinda obvious.”

“What exactly do you mean, Scout.” Spy was at the end of his patience. This really was not going the way he wanted it to. 

“You know what I mean! You always make fun outta me for being a virgin n’ stuff even though that's obviously not true, lemme tell you I got lotsa experience alright, but anyways, I totally figured you out.” Scouts voice was getting faster as he spoke, stumbling over his own words as he went on. 

Spy was utterly confused now. He could not keep up with the frantic rambling at first, but it slowly dawned on him that this might not be about Scout finding out that he has been fighting on the same team as his dad after all. 

No, this was going in a much worse direction than that. 

“So, like, I always get the feelin’ you're staring at m-my b-butt n’ stuff! There, I said it!” Scout was articulating his words by wildly flailing his hands in the air. His face had turned a shade of red while still trying to put up a tough facade.

Spy had been holding his breath for a while now. The words thrown at him could not fully register in his brain as he quickly tried to find words to clear this mess up. 

“I - that, it's… not true,” he stammered out, failing to make it sound like anything but him denying that Scout was, in fact, right. Which he wasn't. 

But Spy had been caught off-guard, not prepared for the situation where his own son thinks he wants to give him more than just the parental kind of love. 

This was all sorts of messed up. 

Scout stepped forward, too close for Spy’s comfort. “I knew it! I figured out that a sick fuck like you would think it's fun to call someone like me a virgin n’ make a big deal outta everything while you're secretly hoping that one night I might just knock on your door and, uh, you know,” his face turned an ever deeper shape of red, as he presented himself. “This.”

Spy had taken a step back, mouth slightly agape in shock from the whole situation. 

He needed to tell Scout. He needed to tell him that what he's implying is wrong on so many levels. He needed to tell him and he needed to tell him quickly, before-

“So what exactly do you want from me, sicko?” Scout stepped forward, forcing Spy to take another step back. This lead to him bumping backwards into his desk, his hand reaching to lean on the desk for support but ultimately pushing the glass of whiskey onto the carpet floor. 

Scout took this as an advantage, slamming his hands onto the desk behind Spy and trapping him further. 

A low yelp escaped Spy’s throat. He leaned backwards as far as he could while his hands were holding onto the rim of the desk for his dear life. 

Scout was close - too close - and staring right into his face. Spy saw every little crevice and every faded scar that formed the visage of the younger man. The man he secretly has been calling his ‘son’ as he thought about him. The man who is, at this very moment, towering over Spy menacingly. For the first time in his life, Spy felt truly threatened by him.

Usually it was the other way around. And that suited Spy better. He liked to be the one in control at all times and overthrow his enemies with the wit of his mind. But now, with his body and brain in high alert mode, he was not able to rely on his intellect. 

His whole body was in a state of shock and it took him a moment to realise that a pair of lips has been placed upon his.

A knee brushed against his groin which broke him free from his frozen state, shoving Scout off of him in disgust. 

Scout staggered from the heavy push for a moment before he started shouting angrily, “hey man, what’s your problem? Can’t make your damn mind up about whatcha’ want? Fuck you!”

Spy hurriedly swiped his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, rubbing so much that loose pieces of skin came off. “No, what in the damn world is your problem? Where did you get this insane idea from?” He shouted back, louder than Scout did.

“Hey, you know damn well where this is comin’ from! You’re the creep here! You’re the one who kept starin’ and starin’ all the time with this creepy creep look in your eyes! And in a way ya’ only do when it’s aimed at me!” 

Scout accusingly pointed his finger at Spy and walked towards him. Not wanting to get cornered again, Spy walked around his desk so it acted as a barrier in-between them. He stepped on the spilled whiskey in the process and grieved a moment for the wasted liquid. 

And then it hit him. The harsh smell of alcohol flooded the whole room for a while now, coating his sense of smell. But just moments ago, when Scout was close to him he had noticed something which now appeared peculiar to him.

“You smell.” he stated, still lost in thought, eyes unfocused on the floor.  
“Well, wow, yeah, I thought ya’ might say some mean things about my kissin’ or whatever, but that one’s just plain rude. I might not spend my money on any of those fancy-ass perfumes you wish you could drown yourself in but-”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Spy looked up. “You smell… good.”

One hand swiftly reached into the cupboard of his desk for a spare knife, the other one to the open whiskey bottle. The person in front of him changed his stance, backing off quickly, but not quickly enough as a splash of the aggressive alcohol hit his face.

A distressed yell in the voice of Scout echoed through the room and Spy used the moment of confusion to climb over the desk and get the knife in position. Using one arm to twist the person around and push him onto the desk, using his own body as a weight to hold him down.

After a minute of struggling and ragged breathing the room went silent. The knife was placed dangerously close at the back of the nightly intruder’s neck, ready to cut the life out of him dare he tries anything funny. 

“This game ends now.” Spy spoke up and pushed the knife’s edge slightly into the skin of the person below him, just enough to make him feel the sharp object without breaking the skin. “You may drop the disguise and unveil your ugly face.” That, of course, was not a request, but a threat. 

A moment of silence passed. Then, deep laughter rose from the person in Spy’s grip as smoke started to form and swirl around them. The red disguise vanished slowly and cracks of a blue suit became visible.

“I knew it.” Spy said disgruntled, driving the blade further into the skin. “What damn business do you have here? Carelessly showing your face at the base of your enemy team in the middle of the night.”

The laughter of the BLU died down but no words left his mouth. Impatiently, the RED Spy shoved him further down onto the desk, making it difficult to breathe properly. “Speak! And don’t think I can’t see right through your lies. I could slash your neck at any time and leave you to bleed out, slowly and painfully. Do you yearn for this pathetic death?”

“There is only one thing pathetic in this room, and it’s currently you failing at threatening me.” The BLU Spy mumbled, before a sharp pain spread across his neck. A streak of crimson decorated the base of his neck - the cut was not deep enough to kill but deep enough to make him squirm in pain.

“I won’t hold back the next time you decide to waste my time with your inane jokes. I reckon you tell me why you decided to make a fool out of yourself by coming here tonight.” Spy snapped. He had to hold himself back. He had to know why he - out of all people - decided to terrorize this hot summer night.

“The perfume gave it away, no?” The BLU on the desk stated calmly, with a slight jest in his voice. “I was sure the expensive taste would rather please you, but alas the guilt that came with kissing your Scout must have jolted your buried conscience to life, yes?” He looked up to the RED Spy, his face still pressed sideways on the desk.

A shudder ran through the RED as he saw the smiling face beneath him. A cunning reflection of his own, mostly hidden beneath the thin fabric of a balaclava, and piercing ice blue eyes staring into his. A face that beared a painful resemblance to his own, yet with delicate differences molding a whole other character. The difference was obvious to him like night and day, yet for others it might seem he simply changed suits.

The grip on his knife became painful, even through the thick leather of his gloves as he grit his teeth and decided not to kill the intruder right here and now. Not yet. Even if he wants to do nothing else more right now. “Explain yourself. Why did you come here tonight?” 

The grin of the intruder widened, “You’re just going to ignore the actual question that’s burning on your mind? Is my RED counterpart that much of a coward?”

An elbow rammed into his sides. “Stop responding with questions! I asked you what I want to hear the answer of. Why did you come here tonight?” he almost shouted, anger seeping through every vein of his body.

The BLU groaned in pain but did not stop grinning, “Oh! I was just dying to hear your voice tonight, mon cher. Nothing goes over seeing the ridiculous face of your arch enemy after he kissed his own son.” He spat out those last words with gross enunciation, startling the RED.

How did he know that Scout was his son? That information is top secret!

Oh right, he was dealing with a Spy after all.

The BLU used the moment of confusion to wring himself out of the loosened grip. A swift kick to to the stomach made the RED stumble back, the brusque force almost sending him crashing to the floor. 

“You imbecile! Cannot concentrate on the matter on hand? Letting me escape this easily is just embarrassing, even for you.” BLU laughed mockingly while drawing his revolver and pointing it towards his counterpoint. “Point-blank, mon cher. As you said, the games end now.”

RED did not need to look up to know the barrel was pointed to his head. He knew he had lost this round of their tedious game. But he had yet to hear the answer to his question.The question that was burning on his mind…

“You did not wish to kill me tonight. If that had been your desire, you could have easily done so without pulling off this ridiculous stunt.” Their eyes locked for a moment and he saw the frown that now replaced the vicious grin of his attacker.

Silence, no answer.

“... So why did you do it? Why did you…” He grit his teeth for a moment before going on, “why did you kiss me? Disguised as Scout! Why, since you know the truth, did you disguise as him out of all people?”

“Why, would it have been better if it had simply been me instead?”

And once again he had replied with another question. But for this one, the RED knew the answer of;

“...No.” 

A gunshot rang through the room. 

\-----

The next time Spy opened his eyes he saw the familiar, white tiled ceiling with bright sterile lights overhead. The grating sound of the intruder alarm echoed in the distance. He was in respawn. 

After collecting his strength and thoughts (someone must have heard the gunshot and set off the alarm) he sat upright and adjusted his tie.

He was right. 2Fort just wasn't his place to be. The sooner they were done here the better.

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a joke but i got too into it. whoops!
> 
> thanks for reading :)


End file.
